


Five Times Tyler Recovered and One Time he Did Not

by PastelMess



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:17:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelMess/pseuds/PastelMess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler gets hurt a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Tyler Recovered and One Time he Did Not

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago. It's filled with pain because I am a terrible person.

**5.**

“You know, we’ve really been lucky,” Josh says out of the blue as him and Tyler hurriedly walk down the sidewalk on their way back to the venue from lunch. They had to sneak away carefully; people had been lined up for their show since the previous night. That was still mind blowing to both of them.

Tyler tugs on his hood to stop it from slipping off his head. “You mean in general? Because yeah, we’ve been lucky.”

“Well there’s that, but I meant something else.” he pulls on Tyler’s arm to avoid having him step into the street, as the little white man that tells them it’s safe to go just turned to that stupid red hand. “I mean with injuries and physical events and stuff. You’ve only had to really stop a fight like once, right?”

Tyler ponders this information. “Huh. I guess you’re right. But that’s only because of our style. Nobody sees a piano and thinks, ‘Wow, I really want to punch the guy next to me.’”

“Well think about it. Some people come to shows just to hassel the performers. Brendon’s been hit in the head with a bottle and was knocked unconscious. Patrick’s had to break up several fights. Lots of people have been hit before by those claiming to be fans. Not to mention the fact that you’re always jumping around and off of things. It’s a surprise you haven’t rolled your ankle or something.”

When it’s safe to cross, Josh takes Tyler by the sleeve and leads him to the other side. Tyler then shrugs. “I’m careful. Besides, you do a backflip every show. That could be catastrophic.”

“I practice those though. You climbing around and jumping? Who knows what could happen.” Josh shakes his head and scoffs at Tyler’s smug expression.

“You worry too much Jishwa. Don’t jinx what luck we actually have.”

-

The show that night goes smoothly. Tyler does his climbing and Josh does his backflip and nobody in the crowd punches somebody else. They leave for their tour bus, the screams and cheers fading to silence once the door is slammed shut.

“I told you nothing would go wrong,” Tyler flashes a cocky smirk as he changes clothes to something a bit more suitable for the weather. Josh rolls his eyes.

“That was one show. We have a billion more in the future. Nothing  _ has _ to go wrong, but I’m just saying that it’s a good thing we’ve been so lucky.”

“And we are going to keep on being lucky because that’s just how we roll.”

“You did good tonight,” Josh says quietly after Tyler has changed. They go head to head in a staring contest before a smile slides onto Tyler’s face.

“You did good too. Like always. Are you coming out tonight?” he jabs a thumb towards the door of the bus, where a small group of hopeful people are already starting to form a half circle around the bus.

“Yeah, might as well. How many people are out there?”

Tyler looks through the blinds. “About twenty right now. It might grow bigger.”

Josh drags a hand down his face. “Alright. Let’s go. You know, this is still so weird to me.”

“Yeah, it’s still weird to me too.”

They leave the bus together, cheers still echoing loudly in their ears as they began to take pictures with the people who let them live out their dreams and establish a career. Without them, Tyler would not be the person he was today, and he lived by that information.

He speaks with one group of people while Josh talks with another about the show and how they liked it. Each person seems highly indulged and listens with great interest to everything Tyler is saying. It's nice, looking out into a small crowd and seeing his band’s logo on their shirts, or seeing tattoos with his lyrics, or paintings and drawings of him. It's still strange to him, even after all these years, but it's nice.

Ty looks behind his shoulder at Josh, who is smiling at something a girl had just gave him.

He doesn’t even see the punch coming.

A fist hits him between his right eye and off his nose, sending him tripping over his own feet and sprawling onto the ground. Blood starts to drip out his nose to the concrete below. A muffled murmur spreads throughout the crowd complete with a couple screams and several gasps.

The person that had hit Tyler swings again, but is stopped by Josh body slamming him out of the way. He doesn’t look happy.

“Get out of here!” He yells at the guy who is already taking off back around the venue. Josh drops down to Tyler’s level, eyes full of worry. He frowns.

Tyler’s right eye is already swelling to the point where he can’t even see out of it. He feels embarrassed, knowing all these people had just watched some guy punch him in the face.

“You okay Ty? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” Tyler manages to squeak out. He tries to forget everyone’s worried stares. “Take me back to the bus.”

“There’s first aid inside,” a girl offers, pointing back towards the venue. Josh nods his head in some form of thanks and wraps an arm around Tyler’s shoulders. Tyler’s well aware he's dripping blood all over himself as well as Josh as they move back towards the back entrance of the venue.

“I can’t believe this. That kid was at our show! What the hell is wrong with people?” Josh is pissed off, and it’s very evident in his movement and facial expressions. His shoulders are tight, nails digging into Tyler’s own as he pulls open the heavy door and lets it slam shut behind them. “What did I say Tyler? What did I say? Our luck’s going to run out. And it ran out tonight. That’s it. We aren’t coming out again, I’m not going to let you-”

“Oh shut up Josh, it’s the first time something like this has even happened. Relax. Not everyone is like that.”

“You’re going to have a black eye.” He sighs loudly, eyes wandering at the people rushing around backstage, cleaning up after the show. He recognizes some of their crew members. “Hey, can someone help us out? We need medical assistance. An ice pack or something.”

Tyler is pulled from Josh’s grasp and is sat down on one of the trunks housing their equipment. He’s told to tilt his head forward to allow the blood to drip out onto a paper towel. A ice pack arrives for his eye.

“That looks terrible,” Josh groans a little bit later after Tyler’s had time to nurse his shiner. He shrugs.

“Maybe it’ll make me look tough.”

“You shouldn’t be taking this so lightly.”

“It’s only a black eye Josh, it’s not like I’m going to die. Calm down.” Tyler smiles. “It’s a good thing we have all those masks.”

Josh only sighs.

 

 

 

 

**4.**

A few months later after Tyler’s black eye incident, they’re playing a festival in St. Louis. Josh had refused to let Tyler come out after shows during those months.

But now they’re headlining this festival and Tyler’s eye is completely fine.

“No bad luck tonight,” Tyler says cheerfully as he listens to the chatter of the crowd waiting to see them. Someone hits the drums, making sure they're in tune. 

“No bad luck if you don’t do stupid things,” is Josh’s reply. He pulls off his hat and rakes one hand through his hair.

“I don’t do stupid things. Stop worrying about me. I’m fine. Just because I got punched in the face four frickin months ago doesn’t mean-”

“That’s not the point Ty. The point is, you’re my friend, and we are considered kind of celebrities now and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” he’s completely serious, staring at Tyler with a very grim expression and all Ty can do is sigh.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be careful, I promise.” he rests his forehead against Josh’s and gives him a reassuring grin. “No bad luck tonight.”

“No bad luck,” repeats Josh. He places his hat back on his head. “We’re on an outdoor stage, remember that. Nothing stupid. Like climbing.”

Tyler shrugs and raises an eyebrow. “They never said I couldn’t climb.”

“I don’t really want to find out what will happen if they don’t like what they see. Shall I remind you what happened in-”

“Yeah yeah, I know I know. No climbing.”

-

Tyler respects Josh’s wishes and doesn’t climb that night, even though he desperately wants to. There’s a perfect place to do in, strategically placed on one side of the stage and he could climb so high he could unhook the flag bearing the festival’s name. There’s also the lighting booth directly in front of the stage that would be fun to scale, but he’s gotta resist his urges or Josh is going to never talk to him again.

Security has never appreciated what Tyler does at shows, but he still does it anyways.

“Is everyone still doing alright?” he asks into his microphone, question being met with the reply of cheering. Tyler grins, eyes scanning the large mass swarming the stage. St. Louis isn’t a place Josh and him are too familiar with, so it was good to know they have a following. Then again, the problem with festivals was that some people were there for the hell of it, not because they knew his music.

“We’ve got one more song for you, and I hope you’ll sing along if you know it. You’ve been wonderful to us St. Louis.” he’s smiling once more as the crowd breaks out into more cheers and hollers. The other lame thing about festivals was the shortened length of sets. They always had to move things around and improvise. 

When it’s time for the drum finale part of  _ Trees _ , Tyler meets Josh’s eyes for his cue and reaches for drumsticks, listening to the crowd as he hops off the stage and approaches the barrier. Security watches him very closely, not looking very happy. Which was exactly what he expected.

He’s hoisted into the crowd with the help of security and those at the barrier, lifted farther towards the back. It’s always a little scary relying on people not to drop him, especially knowing he could get trampled or something. But he's always had a lot of trust towards strangers.

He meets Josh’s eyes as the drum is laid out in front of him, keeping tempo in his head as everything gets settled.  _ One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. _

The people underneath him are unable to stay still, and he’s only four, five, six hits in before it’s quite obvious Tyler is going down. It’s practically inevitable, and Josh isn’t paying attention to Tyler’s slipping form.

It seems to happen all at once. Tyler falls backwards, trying to find his footing so he doesn’t accidentally kick anyone in the face, but his body is twisted in the middle of this chaos and he throws his arms out in front of them. There are too many closely knit bodies, too many hands and feet in the dark that Tyler can’t see, can’t comprehend what’s truly going on. He certainly feels his arm crack, feels it twist the wrong way, feels people reaching at him, stepping on him, sending a thousand upon thousand waves of pain up his arm and around his body. Tyler feels like he’s going to throw up.

He’s only ever broken a bone once, and that was during a basketball game when he was 12. Some kid knocked him out of the way and sent him flying to the ground, snapping his collarbone in the process. Tyler remembered how painful that had been.

But this? This is a thousand times worse.

Because the crowd is screaming, cheering, hollering, whooping, and Josh is still hitting that goddamn drum and doesn’t realize that Tyler is being trampled and his arm is certainly broken.

He can hear the security guard yelling for the crowd to part, but Tyler can’t bring himself to look behind him. He can’t even move. 

Tyler recognizes the blue shirt of the security guard that had been shooting him nasty looks the entire set. He leans down, eyes examining Tyler’s form curled in the fetal position. The crowd has seemed to notice something’s wrong. The song’s over, Josh is back on the stage, but he’s looking for his friend.

“Hospital?” the guard asks as straightforward as he can be, and Tyler simply nods. He’s hoisted into the guard’s arms, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he’s carried back to the barrier and handed to a different guard. It sure is a damn good thing Tyler’s got a skinny frame. 

“Tyler?” Josh shouts, his brow furrowed in a mixture of remorse and concern as he travels down the stage and decides to hop down all together to follow the guard carrying Tyler. His eyes widen once he realizes Tyler’s radius is not inside his arm like it should be.

The crowds still too loud, and it’s still too much. Tyler has no doubt that a video is going to start floating around soon.

“Holy shit.” Josh darts to his friend’s side, keeping the guards pace. Tyler still can’t say anything. He’s sure if he does he’s going to break into tears or throw up or do both.

“Call 911,” the guard demands, slipping his phone out of his pocket. Josh happily obeys and dials the number.

“You’re going to be okay Ty,” Josh promises before he raises the phone to his ear.

“Keep breathing,” the guard says as he wraps around to the back of the stage. Tyler’s handed off to yet another guard who gently lays him on the back part of the stage. He can hear Josh explaining the situation to the operator.

“Don’t move him anymore,” yells Josh after he’s covered the receiver with one sweaty hand. The crowd, that goddamn crowd, is all Tyler can hear. Josh sits down next to him after the call is finished, and reaches for his free hand. “You’re doing good Ty, you’re doing so well. Take deep breaths buddy, deep breaths. The ambulance is on its way, the guards are clearing the crowd away so the paramedics can get through, okay? They’ll take you to the hospital.”

Tyler can see that Josh is starting to hyperventilate, and maybe is getting ready to have a panic attack. He doesn’t want Josh to freak out because of him.

Having a video of him falling and breaking his arm passed around on every social media platform is something Tyler never expects to have circulating on the internet. “Twenty One Pilots Lead Singer Tyler Joseph Takes a Nasty Fall” is the headline of every news article ever, and it’s terrible. People are constantly tweeting him, his own  _ parents _ call to freak out about it (he would have told them eventually but learning your son broke his arm during a show through social media didn’t make most people happy.) He has to have surgery, then have a cast put on for two weeks, and then a brace  _ and then _ Tyler can’t do a goddamn thing. No strenuous activities means no jumping, no climbing, no running, no nothing. All he can do now is stand there and sing. And he does sing, because there was no way they were canceling their tour because of a broken arm. It was just less fun, because now Tyler can’t stand in the crowd and it’s a little hard to hold his ukulele or play the piano or hit the drums. But people understand. 

Josh understands.

He is constantly checking up on Tyler, making sure he’s feeling okay, asking if he needs water, if he needs to sit down, if his arm hurts, etc. Tyler is fine of course; his arm does ache but that was going to happen regardless of what Josh could do for him. 

He’s just counting down the days until he can get this dumb stupid brace off.

 

 

 

 

**3.**

  
One year later they’re playing a sold out hometown show.

Oh, and it’s a frickin’ arena.

Tyler refrains from jumping and climbing after his arm heals completely, because he's well aware said arm is still weak and could break again. The doctors recommend physical therapy, but with all the traveling they do for touring it's kind of difficult to get that done.

So he’s just being careful.

But this,  _ this _ show is special, because these are all the people that knew them first. These are all the people that have made them who they are today. He can’t disappoint tonight.

Tyler doesn't discuss his plans with Josh before hand because he knows Josh would not take a liking to Tyler's reckless behaviour on stage. Which has always been annoying, but he knows Josh is only looking out for him. That's what friends do. 

So Tyler’s staring at this huge crowd of people screaming and cheering for  _ them, _ and the smile on his face is the size of Texas.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” he asks, voice booming throughout the arena and  _ yeah, _ that’s a nice sound. Tyler is met by more screams. “So uhm, I’m sure most of you remember the tumble I took in St. Louis last year.”

More cheering follows and Tyler blushes. He catches Josh’s eye; his friend doesn’t look happy.

“And you know, I’ve never broken my arm before. That was terrible. I had to be safe and stuff.” a simultaneous wave of laughter runs through the crowd. “And I’m still being safe. It’s been kind of boring, not being able to jump and climb and run around and have you guys hold me up. But that changes tonight.”

He can practically feel Josh’s glare burning a hole into the back of his head.

“This show is going to put every other show to shame. Don’t tell anyone else, but you guys, you’re my favourite.” More screaming. “Everything’s gotta be perfect for you. And I want to you how important each and everyone of you are. You take up space, so you matter. Stay alive.”

Tyler grins again as the crowd cheers. He doesn’t want anyone to feel that dark pit of despair he felt all those years ago. This concert, it’s a place to have fun. So Josh can scold him all he wants, but Tyler’s going to have fun.

The song starts normally, Tyler hovers around his piano and sits on top. He messes around with Josh, points at people in the crowd, and jumps around. At the breakdown, he looks towards Josh, who knows perfectly well what Tyler is about to do. He simply shrugs at Josh’s frown and heads towards the supports of the stage so he can start climbing. The crowd increases in volume as he gets higher, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can see the entire arena from up here. It’s a beautiful sight.

In fact, he almost misses his cue because he’s lost in the lights and all the people. It’s insane, singing to this many people. Tyler loves it.

He glances down at Josh as he sings to see his friend keeps making small looks up at him to see if he’s doing okay. Tyler is really testing his luck as he climbs higher.

And then his foot slips.

Tyler’s head slams into one of the metal bars as he grips the support as hard as he can. His head is ringing, pounding, and black spots are starting to cloud his vision. Suddenly, Tyler feels sick. Feedback from the microphone hitting the ground from ten feet up causes everyone in the venue to cover their ears. There’s a lot more noise that before.

Tyler can’t see and that’s freaking him out. He’s struggling to find traction for his feet, so he continues to dangle and use what little arm strength he has to hold on for dear life. Something sticky begins to slide down the side of his face.

And then there’s a person wrapping an arm around his shoulders, holding him tightly. Josh.

He pulls one of Tyler’s feedback monitors out of his ear so he can hear him. “Ty.”

Tyler still can’t see very well, but he isn’t about to tell Josh that. “I hit my head,” he whispers. Below them, security guards and part of the soundcheck crew are rushing on stage to figure out what exactly just happened. The crowd is watching in suspense.

“You’re bleeding.” Josh shakes his head and sighs. “Okay, can you get your feet back up to climb down?”

“Help,” Tyler asks weakly. He continues to squeeze his eyes shut as one hand moves to grasp Josh’s upper arm.

“Shh, I got you Ty. Everything is gonna be alright. Just hold on here.” Josh guides Tyler’s hand back to the bar and shifts down to place his feet back firmly on the scaffolding. Tyler’s shaking a mile a minute under Josh’s touch.

“I can’t climb down,” Tyler sniffs, blinking a couple times to try and get his vision back. His brain feels like somebody is flattening it out with a rolling pin.

“Deep breaths. Take it slow, okay? Take your time. You’ve got time.”

“This is really embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry about that. Worry about yourself. I’ll go down first, okay?”

Tyler nods, sniffs again, and waits for Josh to move so he can begin his descent. Climbing up, it didn’t seem very high.

But now it feels like he’s descending Mount Everest.

The crowd cheers when the two of them reach the bottom, and Josh immediately pulls Tyler backstage. He announces their need for medical attention and forces Tyler into a chair.

Josh is nice enough to wait until  _ after _ Tyler has received treatment before he starts his lecture.

“You fucking  _ idiot. _ ”

“Josh-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t. Tyler, do you know how stupid that was of you? Your arm is still weak. You weren’t paying attention. You didn’t even discuss this with me.”

“I don’t need to discuss everything with you.”

“You’ve had two different injuries in the past year and a half. Make that three now. I think I’m obligated for some sort of discussion if you want to play this fucking guessing game with me.”

“Guessing game? Josh this is the same stuff I do every night!”

“Tyler! Look at me.” Tyler refuses to listen to him and looks at the ground instead. “You’re getting reckless. If you fell from that height, you could have died. Hit your head or something. You’re being impulsive, stupid, ignorant-”

“You don’t need to be so prudent all the time.”

“I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!” Josh finally snaps, his face flushed red with anger. Tyler stares in surprise. Josh has never had an outburst of this extent. At least, not in the years Tyler’s known him. 

Josh rubs at his face vigorously and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I care about you a lot. Seeing you do stuff like that, it worries me. You could fall and get seriously hurt, or worse: you could die. If you died Tyler, I don’t know what I would do with myself. Tonight is the closest we’ve got to something terrible. I don’t know what happened to have all these terrible things start happening to our band, but this isn’t going work. Look. I don’t have any problem with you running or jumping or whatever. My problem is when you do stupid things. Jumping weirdly. Climbing too high. Not thinking. You have to talk to me about these things. Do you know how important that is to me? Do you know how important you are to me? You’re my best friend. I need to make sure you’re being taken care of.”

Tyler sighs. “I’m sorry. I know. I care about you too, and I know if I lost you I wouldn’t be the same. I’m sorry Josh. I’m really sorry.”

“Can you promise me you’ll start being more careful and talk to me about these things?”

“Yes.  I’ll think before I act and I’ll discuss what I want to do on stage with you.” he winces, brain still churning in his skull. How hard did he hit his head?

“Good. Now let me see your head.” Josh pulls away at the cloth covering Tyler’s left temple. There’s a small cut, blood mostly dried now, complete with a forming purple bruise.

“It’s not that bad,” promises Tyler when Josh starts rubbing at his face again. He’s going to break that man one day if he’s not careful enough. “It was just a scare.”

“You slipped.”

“That’s all I did, I promise.” Tyler forces a smile. “We gotta finish the show Josh. We were halfway through, it’s a hometown show, we-”

“Oh no.” Josh straightens out his form and begins pacing with his hands tightly folded across his chest. “That’s not happening.”

“I’m fine man, think of all those people that-”

Josh cuts him off with a scoff. “For Christ’s sake Tyler, can you please think about your own health above strangers? For once, worry about yourself. You got hurt. You almost  _ died _ . I think that compensates grounds for cancellation.”

Tyler stands up and reaches out to stop Josh from moving around. “We aren’t canceling this show.”

“Tyler-”

“You need to stop being so overprotective and paranoid. I know you’re worried. And if it really was that bad, you know I wouldn’t do the show. I’m worried about your own sanity Jish; you’re spending all this time worrying about me and not yourself. So we are going to finish this show, and I’ll tell you how I feel after it’s over and done with, understand?”

Josh drags a hand down his face but gives in with a sigh. “Yep. Got it.” A crew member approaches the two of them, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“How you feeling Ty?”

“I am a hundred percent fine. We are going to continue the show like normal. Can you get word out? Josh and I are going back on stage.” he points and the crew member nods. When he turns to go the other way, Josh pulls Tyler into a hug and buries his head into his shoulder.

“You sure about this?” he mumbles.

“I sure am.”

-

Things are perfectly fine at the beginning. They walk onto the stage to thousands of cheers and screams, but Tyler’s head is still pounding and the noise and lights aren’t exactly doing wonders for him. But he has to keep his head above waters for Josh, because he promised he was okay so Tyler is going to fake it until he makes it.

The minute the show is over and they’ve done their bow, Tyler is shooting off the stage leaving Josh in a confused haze. He’s looking for a restroom, because Tyler is certain he’s about to puke. That is later proved correct when he discovers a small one person bathroom backstage and leans over the toilet right as his entire stomach’s contents are spilled into it. Tyler has experienced migraines before; that shouldn’t come as a surprise. This, however, was different. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but something was different about this than a normal migraine.

Somebody knocks on the door and all Tyler can manage is a meek “occupied” before he’s retching again. So much for faking it.

“Tyler?” the doorknob jiggles but Tyler doesn’t notice. On the other side, Josh is freaking out. “Tyler what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine!”

Finally Josh manages to get the door open and pushes in to see his broken friend draped over the porcelain, skin pale and eyes bloodshot. He shakes his head in anger.

“You lied to me again.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I’m fine. I think I have a migraine or something, that’s all.” Tyler sits against the back wall and flushes the toilet, trying to avoid Josh’s uptight gaze.

“You got hit in the head and now you think you have a migraine. Can you seriously not put two and two together?”

Finally, it clicks and Tyler’s eyes go wide. He looks up. “You don’t think I could have a concussion, do you?”

“Guess we should go find out. Come on, back to the emergency room we go.” He gestures for them to leave and pulls Tyler up. “Let’s get our stuff, call our parents, apologize to people, find a car. We’re supposed to be leaving for the next stop right after this is over.”

“We don’t need to go to the emergency room.” Tyler almost runs smack into the wall and Josh has to steer him down the hallway.

“Don’t need to my ass. You can’t even walk dude.” Tyler pouts, but he knows Josh is right.

-

At the hospital, Tyler has to have a scan done of his skull and brain. He’s sitting on the examination table swinging his legs like a little kid, Josh sitting in one of the chairs beside him. They’re waiting impatiently for the results to come back, or the doctor, or both.

Tyler’s parents are not happy to hear their son might have a concussion. Tyler knows they saw him slip; they were at the show, and everyone in the goddamn universe is going to see that probably. Maybe he’ll come across a video and find it doesn’t look as bad as it actually is.

Josh hadn’t even allowed them time to change or remove their stage makeup, so Tyler is still clad in his black paint getup with Josh sporting bright red eyeshadow. He knows people were staring at them strangely in the waiting room, and every time he thinks about it his face turns bright red.

_ Finally _ , the doctor comes back in with a stack of papers. He’s a balding man with glasses perched on his nose.

“Well, your brain seems fine. No internal bleeding of any sorts. I’m going to do a few other tests, alright?” Tyler nods and the doctor moves closer. He pulls out a small flashlight and shines it in his eyes, causing Tyler to squint. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

Tyler passes that test easily, but now his brain is pounding even worse than before and he feels as if he might puke again.

He scribbles something on a clipboard and gestures for Tyler to stand up. “I want you to walk in a straight line toe to toe from the table to the wall.”

Tyler fails.

The doctor writes it down. “Have you vomited at all in the past hour?”

“Yes,” Josh answers for him.

“Does it feel like you have a really bad headache?”

“Yes,” mumbles Tyler. He hates hospitals.

“Is the light hurting your head?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say the alphabet for me?”

Tyler clears his throat. “A, B, D, E, F-”

“You forgot C,” Josh interrupts, and Tyler shoots him a nasty look.

“No I didn’t.”

“You did.” the doctor scribbles again.

“Are you having trouble seeing? Feeling dizzy?”

“Yes and yes.”

His pen clicks. “Well Mr., er-” he pauses to push his glasses farther up his nose and look down at the info sheet, “Joseph, it appears that you have a mild concussion.”

“Anyone could have told you that,” Josh remarks as he crosses one leg over the other and raises an eyebrow. The doctor glares at him for a few seconds.

“Anyways, you’ll be out of commission for the next month or so. No strenuous activities. Stay away from bright lights and if you need to be in or around light, wear sunglasses. Even if it’s artificial light. Please do not operate any machinery including vehicles. Try to stay off your feet and get plenty of rest. No movies, no computer, and keep being on your phone to a limit.” he points to Josh. “When he sleeps tonight, I want you to wake him every hour. Just tonight. It’s only a safety precaution.”

Tyler groans.

“Stick to over the counter pain meds if you need them for your headache. Just be careful when you take them, okay?”

“How long until he gets better?” asks Josh. Tyler sticks his tongue out at him and crosses his arms. 

“Probably about one to two months. You’re lucky it was only minor. Just watch out for him, okay?”

“Sure thing Doc, you can count on me. Thanks for your help.” He helps Tyler stand up and together they leave, Tyler feeling more crummy than he did before hand. He refuses to look Josh in the eye as Josh talks on the phone to Tyler’s parents.

When he pulls his phone away and shoves it in his pocket, Josh sighs loudly and adjusts the hat on his head. 

“Well, that’s it. Tours cancelled.”

Tyler’s eyes widen. “No. No no no no Josh we can’t cancel the tour, we aren’t even halfway through! We were supposed to go to Michigan tonight, we were going to-”

“Were you listening to the doctor Ty? No bright lights. No running or jumping around. No loud noises. No computers, no driving, no nothing. That’s our entire show. You can’t do that with a head injury. I know in the past you’ve been ignoring the  _ medical professional’s _ advice but this involves your brain, which controls your entire body. You can’t mess around with this kind of stuff.”

“Joooosh,” Tyler starts to whine, but Josh shoves a hand over his mouth.

“No complaining Tyler, you know I’m right. We have to be careful. If you’re feeling better in one to two months we can talk about restarting it. Everyone’s going to get their money’s worth, alright? You gotta start thinking about yourself man.”

Tyler shoves Josh’s hand away with a small groan. “Okay. Fine. I understand. But we are going to finish it, alright? It’s not postponed, it’s just... delayed.”

“Right. Look, your parents are gonna come pick you up and I’m gonna head back to the venue to talk to our team about what’s going on, okay? I’ll wait with you until then.”

He lets out a defeated sigh. “Okay. Can I at least tweet something out? Apologize.”

Josh raises an eyebrow and starts to pull out Tyler’s phone out of his pocket. When Tyler reaches for it, Josh yanks it away. “You better not make this sound like it’s all your fault. It’s not.”

_ It is. _ “I won’t.”

“And that’s all you get to do.”

“Kay. Phone please.” Josh hands him the phone and watches over Tyler’s shoulder as he pulls up Twitter and types:

 

_ @tylerrjoseph: Managed to give myself a concussion tonight at hometown. We gotta delay the tour a couple months until my head can heal. Sorry to let you guys down. Until next time. |-/ _

 

The minute he presses tweet, alerts are already filling into his notifications but Josh has taken his phone.

“I’m sorry Ty.”

He shrugs. “It’s my fault.”

“You didn’t know you would fall man. It’s not like it’s something you haven’t done before.”

“Yeah I guess.” Josh doesn’t answer.

They remain silent until Josh spots Tyler’s parents’ car and helps him inside. Tyler’s mother is already freaking out, asking lots and lots of questions about Tyler’s health. Josh answers all of them, and hands Tyler’s phone over into the custody of his parents.

“Get him some pain meds and make sure he gets lots of rest. He needs to be woken up every hour tonight, doctor’s orders.”

His mother smiles. “I don’t know what we would do without you sweetie.”

Josh smiles back. “Bye Ty. I’ll see you later.”

He watches them drive away, but instead of climbing into his own car and heading back to the venue like he’s supposed to, Josh pulls out his phone and opens Twitter.

 

_ @joshuadun: Feel awful canceling the tour, but Tyler’s health is the most important thing right now. He’s gonna get better quick thanks to everything you do for him. Thank you. <3 _

 

 

 

 

 

 

**2.**

Tyler makes a speedy recovery with his concussion and is back on his feet in no time. The tour starts up again as normal, and everywhere signs reading “Welcome back!” appear in the crowd. It makes the two of them very happy.

Tyler’s slow to move around on stage as much as he had prior to his injury, but it’s more for him than for Josh. He would love to be jumping around and off of things, but sometimes he still gets headaches, and Tyler’s been thinking about what Josh told him about losing him. Tyler certainly doesn’t want to die. So he’s being careful.

As the rest of the tour progresses, he gets back into the swing just like he had after his previous injuries. He goes back into the crowd. He stands on top of his piano. He dances around and enjoys himself without worrying about breaking anything.

Tonight, they’re in Milwaukee, the second to last night of the tour. Tyler’s sitting on the couch in the green room before hand, twisting his hands together as Josh paces the room hurriedly.

“Josh?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you kill me if I went a little out of my comfort zone tonight?”

Josh stops pacing and narrows his eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“Jump. Climb. I don’t know.”

He completely disregards the climbing part. “You’ve been jumping.”

“I mean like, off the piano. You know, like I used to. I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you, since you wanted me to ‘discuss’ these things with you.”

“You sound sooo  _ happy _ about that.” Josh shakes his head. “Whatever man, you seem to be doing fine so go for it. I’m sure the crowd will appreciate it. I realize you so desperately wanted to go back on tour, but you still haven’t been feeling well and the show’s energy hasn’t exactly been the same.”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault the show’s been boring? I figured you would want to get back on tour just as much as I wanted to.” Tyler’s starting to get frustrated, and Josh can tell.

“No, look. It’s not your fault. I’m just saying that this tour feels rushed, alright? You still aren’t fully you. It’s been a couple of months, and things are alright, but I don’t want you doing anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I’m comfortable with this. I feel fine. Completely fine. I’m healthy. I’m good. So good.”

“Okay. You’re good.”

“I’m good.”

“Then do what you want Ty. I’m not going to stop you.”

Tyler raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then.”

-

That night, the old energy of pre-injured Tyler returns. He’s smiling, jumping, dancing - he’s enjoying himself. Josh can tell, and he can’t help but smile himself, even though tensions between them aren’t ideal at the moment. He’ll apologize after the show.

Tyler climbs on top of his piano as Josh joins him for his backflip, and they both stare at each other as he sings. The crowd is loud, but there’s always comfort when the pair is together.

When it’s time, Josh does his backflip and Tyler jumps, something he hasn’t done properly in quite some time. It feels good, sailing through the air again.

It feels good up until his ankle rolls underneath his landing and shoots waves of pain through his body. He doesn’t falter in his singing though, because the show must go on, and it could have been anything. It’ll probably subside.

But as the show continues, his ankle doesn’t get any better. In fact, he’s probably making it worse by running around and climbing into the crowd. Tyler’s an idiot, he knows that, but he’ll do anything to put on a good show and make the crowd happy. Not only that, but when Josh finds out Tyler’s never going to hear the end of it. And Josh will find out, because he’s nosy as fuck.

After the show, the two head back to change before they come back out to meet some people. Tyler follows behind Josh, trying his hardest to catch up and hide his limp.

“That was a good show,” Josh comments happily. He pulls open the door to the bus and gestures for Tyler to go in first. Tyler gulps as he eyes the stairs. They seem four times as big as usual.

“Oh yeah, it was a really good show. The best we’ve had in awhile.” Tyler chuckles nervously and braces himself for his three step journey up.

Josh raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “You alright there?”

Tyler debates lying and then decides that’s probably a really terrible idea. “No. Actually, I’m not okay. When we did our jump, I’m pretty sure I rolled my ankle.”

Josh stares at him. “You’re joking.”

“No. I’m not.”

He sighs and drags a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ Ty, you are just accident prone recently.”

“I’m sorry Josh! Look, I don’t know how bad it is, so let’s look while we change and deal with whatever comes up. Sound good?”

“I guess. You need help getting up the stairs?”

“That would be nice.” Josh wraps an arm around Tyler’s midsection and helps him up the steps one at a time. It takes them five minutes to actually get inside the bus, and another two minutes to get Tyler over to the couch. By the time he finally sits down, Tyler’s exasperated, and his face is bright red.

Josh drops to his knees. “Which one is it?”

“Right.”

With another sigh, Josh reaches out to roll Tyler’s pant leg up and takes off his sock and shoe. A small whistle escapes his lips. 

It’s bad.

Tyler’s ankle has already swelled to four times its original size, and his entire foot is purple and blue. It looks like he has a softball under his skin.

“Shit,” Tyler mutters under his breath as he runs a hand through his hair.  Great, another injury he’s going to have to be out for. “You know, I never thought being in a band would be this dangerous. I didn’t become an athlete for a reason.”

“This is one of your lesser injuries Ty. I don’t think it’s broken. Sprained maybe. I’ll go tell someone we have to go to the emergency room  _ again. _ We’re going to have to lock you up in a cage.”

Tyler pouts. “That’s no fun.”

“You’re lucky I’m not chewing your ass out right now.” with yet  _ another _ sigh, Josh pushes himself off of the ground and wipes his hands off on his pants. “After I tell someone, I’m gonna wash up and change. I’ll help you after, and then we can go. Sound good?”

“It doesn’t sound good,” he mumbles, crossing his hands over his chest. “Tolerable maybe.”

“Fine. Sound tolerable?”

“Sure Jish. Anything for you.”

Josh shakes his head and disappears out the bus doors, leaving Tyler to wallow in his own self pity.

-

At the hospital, they get a doctor named Dr. Malone. She’s a small, petite lady with a motherly personality and observes Tyler’s foot with care.

“Can you tell me what you were doing when this happened? It will help decide whether to get an X-ray or not.”

“He jumped off a piano,” Josh snickers, and Tyler sticks his tongue out at him.

Her face seems to light up in surprise. That must be a new one. She applies a little bit of pressure near the major swelling of his ankle, causing Tyler to let out a hiss of pain.

“Well, it’s definitely not broken, so that’s good news. All the bones look to be in order. It seems to be just a sprain. I’ll get you some ice for that, alright sweetie?” Dr. Malone smiles, patting Tyler on his knee. Josh raises an eyebrow playfully as she disappears out the door.

“We’re going to have to get you some crutches Mr. Joseph.”

Tyler scowls. “Shut up Josh.”

“No more jumping for you,” he says in a singsong tone. A smirk melts onto his face.

“Shut up Josh,” repeats Tyler as he folds his arms tightly across his chest and looks out the window. The hospital happens to be right off the highway, so he can see hundreds of cars zooming by, their bright lights twinkling in the darkness.

When Dr. Malone comes back, she gently rests an ice pack wrapped in a cloth on top of his ankle. She’s got an ankle brace for him as well, which she gently sets on the table next to them.

“So you’ll need to ice it and elevate it when you get home. Try to stay off it for a few days and use crutches if you can. It should be back to normal in a few weeks, but try and leave the brace on for at least a month. That way your ankle can gain some strength back. If the pain gets to be too much, feel free to take some over the counter pain meds. Nothing super fancy is required.” Her smile is kind, and it makes Tyler feel much better about the situation. At least the tour doesn’t have to be canceled.

Josh stands up and reaches out to rub Tyler’s back gently. “Thank you Dr. Malone. We appreciate your help.”

“No problem.” she looks between the two before a small squeal comes out of her mouth. “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything because I wasn’t sure, but the jumping off the piano thing seemed to prove my theory correct.” Tyler’s face turns red. “My daughter was at your show tonight. She’s a big fan of you two. Never shuts up about your band.” She shrugs. “Have to admit myself, your music isn’t terrible. Much better than all the crap that’s on the radio these days.”

Josh laughs. “Well thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

“I’m glad you weren’t too terribly hurt. Nothing bad happened at the show then?”

“No, Tyler probably made things much worse by not making it known the minute it happened.” Josh gives Tyler a stern look to which Tyler only shrugs.

“I wasn’t going to stop because I accidentally hurt myself. I thought it’d go away.”

“But it didn’t.”

Tyler scoffs. “Obviously.”

Dr. Malone looks down at her watch and out the door before looking back at the bickering pair. “You’re welcome to stay in here for a few minutes while he ices his ankle, but I better get going. Hope you feel better Tyler.” She smiles once more before waving goodbye and taking off out the door. Josh rubs his eyes the minute she’s gone.

“One month. We can deal with that.”

“Pfft. One month is nothing.” Tyler says this, but he knows this one month is going to be hell.

 

 

 

  
  
**1.**

Tyler is extremely careful in the months following his sprained ankle. He knows he’s tried to be careful in the past, but this time he’s  _ actually  _ trying. 

They got lucky with them only having one show after he actually twisted it, so Tyler actually got to follow doctor’s orders the next couple of days. Unfortunately they had to get on a plane and leave for England in the days following. Being on crutches while traveling was harder than it sounded.

But now Tyler’s ankle is all better, and he’s a hundred percent healthy once more. 

They play some festivals and weave in and off of tour for those following months. Tyler tries to put his full energy into his shows, but it’s hard because he is still truly nervous something terrible will happen. In fact, something terrible does happen.

Honestly, it could have been a lot worse, but it’s still pretty terrible when it does happen. And they’re overseas.

The venue they’re playing in Manchester is small; they’re actually on the second floor of this building. The room is claustrophobic and the ceiling is low. Strangely enough, it isn’t Tyler that the mishap happens to. It’s Josh.

Because he does his backflip and ends up hitting his head on the ceiling, causing a string of unlucky coincidences to occur, and before they know it Josh has dislocated his shoulder. Then they have to call the paramedics and go to the hospital, and it’s all weird because they are in England and not back at home. The worst part is that Tyler has to bite his tongue and not make some snarky remark about Josh’s injury. Honestly, he isn’t sure how he managed to  _ not _ get hurt.

Anyway, they put his shoulder back into place, give him some painkillers, and send them on their way with the advice to ice it two to three times a day. Josh is fine. No biggie.

Then they’re playing this radio festival in Florida, and there’s a  _ ton _ of people there watching them. Just as many as they’re used to, but it still gets to be overwhelming sometimes. He wonders if the president feels this way when he gives his inaugural address. Sometimes he feels like a newly sworn in president standing in front of all these people.

At this particular show, the stage is set up weird. One, it’s not even a real stage, because it’s one that protrudes out the back of a truck. It’s a six foot drop from the stage to the cement below, and there’s so much equipment and wires on the stage that it’s a surprise nobody has killed themselves already.

There isn’t much room for him to move around already, but with Josh’s drum kit and his piano, there  _ really _ isn’t much room to move around. He has a feeling this might end in disaster.

But that isn’t going to happen, because Tyler is going to be careful. He’s going to actually pay attention this time and look where he’s going.

The show starts just as usual. Everyone is screaming and cheering, they’re both smiling as they do their job. Everything is normal. Tyler is making sure of it.

Tyler has this flaw though. He gets too involved in stuff and doesn’t pay attention, so he’s lost in the music, lost in the sea of people, lost in the heat, the words, the screams, and he doesn’t see the giant amp he’s just tripped backwards over. The worst part is that this amp happens to be right at the edge of the stage, so now he’s not only tripped over this amp in front of thousands of people (again,) he’s also just fallen six feet off the edge of the stage to the hard frickin’ cement below. Tyler can feel his collarbone crack and suddenly he’s envisioning the golden gates of heaven because he’s sure that’s where he is now. It feels like his goddamn shoulder is grinding underneath the heat of the hot Florida sun. It’s December; why is it so hot outside? 

He can’t complain too much; the bone is still inside his skin, so it’s already much better than St. Louis.

Security approaches him with caution over the roar of the crowd and Josh is already hoping off the stage to see what the hell just happened. He lets out a whoosh of air and rubs the back of his neck when he realizes Tyler has hurt himself yet again. Really, Josh shouldn’t be surprised.

Tyler can’t even breathe correctly as the red shirt of the guard appears in the corner of his eye and he feels Josh take his hand.

“Tyler, you’re gonna be okay.” Josh sounds comforting, and Tyler is thankful for that. Josh turns towards the guard. “We can’t move him; I think he broke his clavicle. You see that jut? Have someone call 911. I’ll stay with him.” With a nod of his head, the guard takes off around the stage to make his phone call. The crowd is loud and Tyler can feel his blood pounding in his ears. Why is it so  _ loud? _

He groans, and Josh drops down to the ground cross legged. He rubs the back of Tyler’s hand with his thumb and continues to tell him he’s going to be okay. The people at the barrier are staring with wide eyes and terrified faces. They keep asking if Tyler’s okay, and Josh keeps promising he’s fine. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.

“Does he need water?” a redheaded girl yells out, holding an unopened water bottle over the barricade. Tyler nods his head, so Josh reaches out to take it from her and opens it. He helps Tyler take small sips, sighing at his friend’s every groan. Maybe they truly did need to lock him up in a cage.

The guard comes back after a couple of minutes, whispers something to two other guards, and squats down next to Josh. The other two guards leave to talk to other guards, while the one next to Josh rubs the back of his neck.

"Paramedics are on their way. They wanted to know if it's the first time he's broken that bone."

"It's not," Josh replies with a shake of his head. Tyler only groans. That's another eight weeks in a goddamn cast probably. “He broke it at a basketball game when he was 12.”

The guard nods his head. “Does he need anything else?”

“I can handle it. S’not the first time he’s hurt himself during a show.”

Tyler groans again.

-

The good news is that he isn’t going to need surgery.

The bad news is he has to wear an arm sling for the next twelve weeks.

Tyler’s getting fed up with all these injuries. He had been one of the safest people he knew, and now he was breaking things left and right. How did they start getting so much bad luck? Was it ever going to end? Was he really just that clumsy?

Josh sits down next to Tyler with a sigh, resting a hand on top of his. “I know things are stressful.”

Tyler scoffs. “That’s an understatement.”

“But it could have been worse. You could have died, and you didn’t. A broken collarbone is easy to deal with. At least you’ve had one before, right?”

“Right,” he grumbles.

“It was probably weak and that’s why it broke. Twelve weeks is only three months, you can do it. We don’t have a legit tour at the moment, just a few shows here and there. You can make things interesting still. You’ve done it before.”

Tyler rests his head on Josh’s shoulder, an audible sigh escaping his lips. “I’m just tired of getting hurt. It’s like, one injury heals just for me to get another one. Maybe you really do need to lock me up in a cage. Probably be safer that way.”

“I know I’ve said a lot of shit this past year, about me being scared to lose you. And I think that I really am being paranoid. You wouldn’t be my Tyler if you were a couch potato all day.” Josh pokes him in the nose. “So yeah, you’ve been getting hurt a lot recently, but you are strong, and you’ve healed just fine. Your body keeps getting stronger and stronger.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Josh rolls his eyes. “Don’t be afraid Tyler, that’s why you’re hurting yourself. Just lose yourself in the moment like you did before. Just... don’t climb.”

“But I like too.”

“Nobody else likes you too.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Tyler sits up, pouting. Josh chuckles.

“I know it is. The only people who don’t like it is your parents and I. We’re the party poopers.”

Tyler settles back down into his previous position, snuggling into Josh’s shoulder. He winces when his arm shifts. “But you’re my party pooper, and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Josh smiles. “You’ll be okay Ty.”

 

 

 

  
  
**+1**

Everyone is surprised when an entire year goes by and Tyler doesn’t hurt himself, not even once. He thinks their unfortunate string of bad luck is finally over.

Personally, Tyler thinks it’s because they started bring Jenna along on tours. Nothing goes wrong when she’s around.

She won’t let that happen.

-

Alternative Press loved Josh and Tyler’s performance at the APMA’s so much in 2014 that they were practically begging them to come back in 2016. The two of them were going to say yes anyways, but it’s when Tyler is told he’s allowed to climb, and that they will personally have a stage for him  _ to _ climb, that makes him take the bait. Josh doesn’t approve, but they’ve spent a year injury free so he doesn’t seem the harm in it.

“I’ll be careful,” Tyler says.

“I know,” replies Josh. They don’t want a repeat of the hometown concussion. It sounds like a serial killer name, and makes him laugh.

So they do their show. There’s a lot of people watching them, a lot of people at this award show in general. Award shows are weird. They’re kind of like festivals, Tyler thinks. There are people down there that hate him and his music. Which sucks, but it is what it is. All he has to do is put on a good show and make them think something different. How many bands having people scaling stages thirty feet high? 

Not many.

So he’ll show them. Besides, the APMA’s are a lot better than the VMA’s. He’ll enjoy himself a lot more.

Tyler plays his piano, Josh plays his drums, they exchange small grins. Tyler jumps off of things, makes his way into the crowd, and puts on a show the audience will never forget. He makes certain they’ll never forget.

And then it’s time to climb.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little afraid. The metal is cool until his sweaty, muddy painted hands (which have turned a dirtied gray by this point) and because his hands are so sweaty it makes the bars slippery under his touch. Tyler wipes his clammy hands on his pants, takes one look at Josh drinking from a water bottle, and begins his ascent. He gains more confidence the higher he goes. Tyler knows all these people are watching: including his best friend, family, and his own wife. He’s gotta make every second count.

Once he’s at the top, he can’t help but take in the beauty of the pastel skyline of Cleveland. It’s beyond beautiful, and he kind of wishes he had his phone to take a picture. All his worries melt away as he stares at the sunset and listens to the crowd’s screams below. This is what he was born to do.

_ Can’t believe I thought I’d grow up to be a basketball star, _ he thinks as he raises the microphone to his mouth. It’s show time.

-

Josh loves watching Tyler sing from the top of the stage supports. He looks like an ant all the way up there, and Josh knows the crowd loves it. He’s so proud of his friend for everything Tyler has ever done.

He feels bad for giving Tyler so much shit over the past few years. Seeing him up there performing flawlessly in front of thousands of people at a goddamn award show is enough to make anyone feel guilty. Josh decides he’ll apologize after the show to clear his guilty conscious.

But suddenly, Tyler is no longer singing.

He’s falling.

It seems to happen in slow motion, Tyler’s body hitting the stage like he was nothing more than a rag doll. The microphone bounces off the stage and rolls across the cement, coming to a jolted stop by the barricade.

A pool of blood surrounds Tyler’s lifeless body at the same time Josh lets out a blood curdling scream of his own. He’s throwing his drumsticks to the side and barreling over his drumset in seconds, tripping over wires as he tries to get to Tyler. Then he’s dropping to his knees and pulling Tyler’s head into his lap, not caring his hands are now soaked in blood. 

Everything is too loud. The crowd. The equipment. The cars down the street. The light.

“SOMEBODY CALL 911!” Josh’s voice sounds foreign on his tongue as he clutches his friend like a lifeline. He presses two ruby encoated fingers against Tyler’s neck, but there’s no pulse. Tears are pouring down his face.

He attempts CPR, doing chest compressions just like he learned in that shitty first aid class he was forced to take his senior year of high school. There are people rushing around him, moving equipment and trying to give Tyler some space. The crowd is going crazy, trying to see what happened.

Josh doesn’t stop until the paramedics arrive, and even then he doesn’t want to stop. He’s never been around this much blood in his life, never seen Tyler’s limbs this way, never seen his friend so  _ lifeless. _ He can’t leave Tyler like this.

“Sir, you have to step away so we can get in.” One paramedic says sternly. 

Josh is hysterical. “I can’t LEAVE HIM!”

“Sir-”

“NO!” Josh screams again, and someone wraps arms around him so tight that he can’t escape. Josh fights though, kicking and screaming as he’s dragged away. He watches the paramedics through his eyelashes, blinking back tear after tear.

Two paramedics share a solemn head shake.

“He didn’t make it. Suffered a heavy head wound; died on impact. We’re gonna need to take him in.”

“NO!” Josh screams again, still struggling to escape the security guard’s strong grasp. Tyler can’t be dead. He can’t.

“Rigor is already starting to set in. We’ve got to get him to the morgue sir.”

This can’t be happening.

“YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM! YOU CAN’T!” Josh  _ finally _ manages to break through, and is to Tyler in seconds. He clutches him once more, holding him in his arms as he sobs into Ty’s hair. He can still smell the shampoo Tyler used in his shower this morning. Josh tries to remember the last conversation they had but he can’t. He can’t even remember the last time he told Tyler he loved him.

Then Josh thinks of Jenna. Jenna, who watched her husband fall thirty feet to his death and probably can’t get to the stage in all the chaos.

He thinks of Tyler’s family. Parents aren’t supposed to bury their children.

“I love you Tyler,” he sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. The metallic smell of blood is overpowering, and knowing it’s his best friends blood is even worse. “I love you so much.”

Josh hears the zipper of the black bag they’re going to stuff Tyler into, and cries harder.

-

All he can think of is Tyler’s lifeless body being put in the ground six feet under to rot for the rest of eternity. Everytime he closes his eyes, it’s Tyler’s beaten and bloody corpse in his field of vision.

He’s wearing his nicest black suit, the one he wore when Tyler got married.

Josh also cannot stop crying.

He can’t comprehend that his best friend is dead. Josh keeps expecting to wake up to Tyler’s laughter, to see him scribbling lyrics on the back of a Taco Bell receipt, to hear him begging for Josh to get him a Redbull from the gas station down the street.

He wants to sit next to Tyler when his friend is having an existential crisis. Wants to go back to taking care of his broken arm, broken collarbone, sprained ankle, black eye, concussion.

He wants to tell Tyler how much he loves him.

Josh regrets everything. There was so much he wanted to tell Tyler that he can’t anymore.

All around him are friends and family he knows. He sees Tyler’s family gathered together, his mother sobbing into her husband’s shoulder and Maddy grasping onto Zack like he’s her lifeline. Mark is holding Jenna protectively, his eyes wet.

Wrong. Everything is so  _ fucking _ wrong.

“Hey Josh.” Brendon’s voice is soft, no trace of cockiness to be found at all. He looks just as solemn as the rest of them, Sarah crying silently on his arm. Josh only nods, for he knows the minute he opens his mouth he’s going to launch into hysterics. He’s thankful when Brendon wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry Josh, I’m so so sorry.” Brendon sounds broken.

“He was a great guy,” Sarah adds, eyes cast to the dirt. Josh can’t reply. He’s too busy crying into Brendon’s shoulders.

-

Everyone he talks to says exactly the same thing. “I’m so sorry,” or “he was a great guy.” 

_ Was _ . That’s what really gets him.

Tyler is truly gone.

And it’s a little ridiculous, he thinks, because all these people - Pete, Patrick, Hayley, to name a few - were all of Tyler’s friends too. He’s not sure why they are telling him that. They should be telling Tyler’s family that. 

Telling his wife that.

And Josh knows that he should be over there with the rest of them, comforting Jenna, supporting Tyler’s family, but he can’t bring himself to go over there. He can’t even bring himself to go over to his own family.

Without Tyler in his life, everything seems grey. Dull. Boring.

There isn’t going to be a band anymore. Josh can’t replace his best friend. 

He doesn’t even think he could go on playing and touring anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.


End file.
